At the beginning of January, 1744, he called again, looking very cheerful. “I have hired,” he said, “the top floor of the house next to Barbara’s dwelling; she knows it, and to-night I will gain her apartment through one of the windows of the garret, and we will make all our arrangements to enable me to carry her off. I have made up my mind; I have decided upon taking her to Naples, and I will take with us the servant who, sleeping in the garret, had to be made a confidante of.”
“God speed you, my friend!”
A week afterwards, towards eleven o’clock at night, he entered my room accompanied by an abbé.
“What do you want so late?”
“I wish to introduce you to this handsome abbé.”
I looked up, and to my consternation I recognized Barbara.
“Has anyone seen you enter the house?” I enquired.
“No; and if we had been seen, what of it? It is only an abbé. We now pass every night together.”
“I congratulate you.”
“The servant is our friend; she has consented to follow us, and all our arrangements are completed.”